


Shut Up and Dance

by Gray Shadows (the_afterlight)



Category: Ghostbusters (2016)
Genre: 5 Times, Dancing, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-20
Updated: 2016-12-20
Packaged: 2018-09-09 23:08:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8916676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_afterlight/pseuds/Gray%20Shadows
Summary: While physics is her biggest love, that doesn't mean it's her first love.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RiverSongTam](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RiverSongTam/gifts).



      **[1]** Moving into the fire station had many benefits, not least all of the large, open space available for Jillian Holtzmann to set up her lab. When asked, she said that this was her favorite. There were mornings, however, when Patty and Erin were out running errands, and Abby hadn't yet crawled out of bed and made her way in to the office, that Jillian let herself take advantage of her other, possibly more favorite, benefit:

The unfinished top floor, open and empty save for the space where she'd set up her 'bedroom,' was the perfect dance space.

When Jillian had been a child, before her seventh grade teacher had introduced her to, and encouraged her in, the wonders of science, she'd had a lot of energy without any real outlet; to try and compensate, her parents signed her up for dance classes. Ballet to start, then tap and jazz, ballroom, Latin, swing and blues... If it had rhythm and movement, she'd latched on, kicking and screaming, until she'd earned at least a basic competency. Mostly, these days, she practiced on her own, but there had been times when, stuck on one physics puzzle or another, that she'd found a nearby studio, something with a drop-in class available, and danced her heart out until something in her brain shook loose.

Usually, when she had the morning to herself, she'd shake herself out, flick through her iPod to a random song, and blast whatever she settled on through her dock speaker. Depending on the song, she'd head to her makeshift barre, or groove around in the middle of the room, or, sometimes, just spin until she could spin no longer. Most mornings, it was less about the dance and much, much more about the movement, although she did find that working the barre was very centering. Fifteen minutes, twenty, or maybe half an hour: it wasn't, usually, very long, before she stopped, wiped off her face with a spare towel, and made her way down to the showers to start the day. 

When she and Erin returned from their errands, Patty usually could tell that something was different about Jillian on the days that she danced, but when she asked, all Jillian would do was shrug and say, "Guess I slept well." 

 

      **[2]** "ERIN, WATCH OUT!" Abby cried, lunging to push Erin out of the way as their current hunt swooped down towards her. Unfortunately, Patty lunged at the same time, and she and Abby got tangled up, leaving Erin easy prey for the ghost. It settled over her, then, with a shrug of her shoulders, took control.

"Well," it said, with Erin's voice but an alien inflection, "this is interesting. Such wonderful knowledge. It's unfortunate that it will soon be passing." It raised her hands and clapped, calling, "Maestro!" and from the theatre's ancient speakers, music began to play.

The hunt had been an odd one, because there hadn't precisely been a call. Patty had been keeping track of the news for any kind of weird happenings and come across a few odd, unexplained deaths by, as far as the doctors could tell, exhaustion. Doing her best to track down common connections between the decedents, she'd found a small, abandoned theatre close to where they'd lived or worked, one that she'd already had her eye on because of an old, mysterious murder. "There hasn't been much in the way of haunting, exactly," Patty explained over pizza, "but between the old murder and the new deaths, I think we should check it out."

The others had agreed, so they'd suited up and headed out, and now found themselves surrounding Erin as the ghost who'd possessed her began to dance. "Oh, this feels wonderful," it exclaimed. "It's so nice to dance again. If only they could keep up. I could dance all night!"

Jillian rolled her eyes, shrugging out of her proton pack and setting it on the floor. "Okay, big guy," she taunted. "You want to dance? Let's dance. Cha cha? Jive? Swing? Paso doble?" She tilted her head at Erin, swinging out her shoulders. "No, I bet you're a tango guy." From seemingly out of nowhere, Jillian produced a rose. "I'll lead," she said, and placed the rose between her teeth. She held out her arms to Erin, and the ghost walked into them, stepping into dance position. The music [shifted](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wCWeviKxtl8), and Jillian led Erin's body into a first slow, low sweep across the floor.

"Is this happening?" Abby asked, slack-jawed. Beside her, Patty nodded

"This is definitely happening. Did you know she could dance? I didn't know she could dance."

"I had no idea." Abby shook her head. "I mean, sure, she boogies in the lab or whatever, but on this level? This is incredible. I need to film this; this is going to be such good blackmail material." Patty slapped the camera down, shooting Abby a look. "Fine, fine, no filming. Get your pack ready. If this works, I don't think we'll have much time."

As Jillian led Erin and the ghost around the stage, the expression on Erin's face grew steadily more ecstatic. "Yes," the ghost cried in her voice, "Yes! Yes, this is what I missed, what I craved, the _dance_ , the emotion, the _**passion**_! Oh, I'm alive again!"

Erin's back arched as Jillian dipped her, and when she pulled Erin up, the ghost was left behind, writhing in ecstasy -- and hovering directly over where Jillian had left the trap. "Now!" Jillian cried, the rose flying from her mouth, forgotten. She pulled Erin out of the way as Abby and Patty fired their proton guns at the ghost, catching it in the crossfire. Jillian stomped on the trap release. sucking the ghost away, Erin still held in her arms. As the ghost faded away into the trap and the lightshow ended, Jillian grinned. "Well. Who says I don't know how to show a lady a good time?"

Erin, woozy in her arms, blurted, "I've definitely never said that." 

Laughing, the women packed up their gear and sauntered out of the theatre, Jillian supporting Erin on one shoulder while carrying the trap in the opposite hand. 

 

      **[3]** "So you dance," Patty said one night, pizza boxes sitting open on the table between her and Jillian. Erin and Abby were already finished, heading back to whatever project they were working on -- Patty had been afraid to ask -- but she and Jillian were still lingering.

"I dance," Jillian agreed absently, poking away at her tablet with one hand, forgotten, half-eaten slice of pizza in the other.

"Could you teach me?"

Jillian nodded. "Yeah, sure, that'd--" She stopped and looked up. "You want me to teach you to dance? I'm pretty sure you've already got some awesome moves of your own."

Patty rolled her eyes. "Well, obviously. But I wanna learn to do the kind of stuff you can do. That tango with Erin? That was awesome."

"Well, I suppose I could show you a few things." Jillian closed her tablet and wolfed down the last few bites of her pizza. "Although I have a better idea. There's a drop-in class at a studio just a few blocks away. You got workout clothes with you?"

Patty snorted. "I got sweats and a t-shirt to wear when I get slimed. Is that close enough?"

"Excellent. Grab 'em and meet me downstairs. Tonight, you learn to salsa!"

 

      **[4]** Jillian danced with Abby precisely once. They were both drunk on cheap boxed wine, celebrating getting their lab at the Kenneth P. Higgins Institute, and Jillian started grooving to the music blasting from her computer speakers. "C'mon!" she encouraged Abby, shaking her way towards her colleague. "We're celebrating!"

Abby started to move, shaking her arms, and Jillian stopped to stare. Never before had she seen someone dance _so poorly_ with so much enthusiasm.

"... No, maybe not," Jillian said. "Maybe not with the dancing. More drinking!" 

They never spoke of it again.

 

      **[5]** Kevin wandered into the firehouse with none of his usual energy and an uncharacteristically dejected look upon his face. Jillian waved from the desk, where she'd been fiddling with a device she'd made years before and forgotten what it did. "Kevin? I thought you had the weekend off," she said, standing up. "C'mere, big fella. C'mon, bring it in." She held her arms out and he fell gratefully into them, sweeping her into a bearhug.

"Thank you, Jillian," he said, after letting her go. "I was, but I can't enter the competition anymore."

"Competition?" Patty asked, coming down the stairs. "I didn't know you were competing in anything."

Kevin nodded. "The Manhattan Dance Championships are this weekend. My partner and I were going to compete, but she broke her ankle in a freak hotdog stand accident."

Leaning around Kevin's shoulder, Jillian mouthed 'freak hotdog stand accident?' at Patty, who shrugged. "Well, that's unfortunate," Patty told him. "You can't find another partner?"

"I don't know anyone else who dances," Kevin explained. "Not enough to learn the routine in time."

Patty gave Jillian a significant look, and Jillian grinned. "Funny you should say that," she told him, looking up at him. "What style did you say you were competing in?"


End file.
